


Lemon Sorbet

by muuny



Series: Fruit and other delicious things [3]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, oh koujaku gives foot and back rubs, sly teasing sei, sly tries to figure stuff out, why do i have a computer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muuny/pseuds/muuny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He physically cannot pass the word through his lips. Sly knows it, too. It eats his tongue each time he fixes it on his lips and attempts to birth it into the air. It hurts. Aoba does not have this problem, and it makes Sly understandably envious. He can tell Koujaku he loves him on demand....It’s something so simple, but he can’t do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lemon Sorbet

**Author's Note:**

> um so this is basically sly sitting around at jack's place with nothing to do till he comes home. so trash in a sense.
> 
> thanks for reading in advance really really i mean it <3

_12:22 P.M._

It’s not very often that Sly is the first to wake from a deep slumber, but today is one of those exceptions. Aoba is letting him take the front seat that morning. Or, more like Aoba’s still nestled in the dark sphere of his comfortable dream world while Sly has to stomach the chronic drowsiness they experience just about every morning. Whatever.

Sly’s eyelids tense before easefully sinking back. He blinks away the loud, afternoon beams of sunlight, a yawn tearing from his body with a grand stretch. While his arms are ajar, a sharp point pricks his elbow. Sly rolls his head to grimace at whatever it is that poked his skin. Behold, a sheet of folded stationery rests atop Koujaku’s pillow. One of its sharp corners must’ve stung him. Upon closer examination, Sly notices that it is addressed to him and Aoba:

 

_Aoba/Sly,_

_Breakfast is on the stove for you. Heat it up whenever you’re ready to eat. I will be back around two for lunch. See you then._

_Koujaku_

 

“Idiot could’ve just sent me a message.”

Well, he’s up now. Time to get the day started.

Now it takes him a couple tries, but he eventually sits right-side up and finds balance on his inflated feet. Everything’s throbbing like something fierce, so Sly immediately starts for the shower. Hot water cascades down his backside, temporarily soothing the tough knots. The scalding water pooling at his puffy feet is fairly pacifying, too.

He towel dries his blue mane, lifting it all up into his beloved high ponytail. He reminds himself to tell Koujaku to get his ass in gear and actually finish the laundry, because all he has to choose from is a couple maternity blouses Mizuki gave Aoba as a joke, and the dumbass kept them. Sly sucks his teeth. At least he had nowhere to be. He chooses the lesser feminine of the garments: a salmon-colored tank with off-white ruffles at the hem. He steps into a pair of drawstring, cotton lounge shorts. Other than that, dressing himself isn’t much of a hassle as it normally is.

Ren sits near the open window in sleep mode. Sly starts him up, and the AllMate’s orbs pop awake.

“Aoba.”

“ _Heh_. Sorry to disappoint, but you’re stuck with _me_ this morning.”

“I am happy with either,” Ren sits up straight, puffy tail swaying, “Good morning, Sly.”

“Mornin’,” Sly returns, plucking Ren from his spot, “Hey, do a quick analysis of the kid for me.”

“Certainly.” Ren stiffens. Sparks flash behind the glassy films of his dark, marble eyes. A whirring emanates from him for the duration of his analysis.

“Analysis complete. Blood sugar is normal. Blood pressure is also normal. Heart rate is in the acceptable range. Growth is stable; progression is normal. There are no abnormalities to report. Sly, I would advise you to eat within the next hour to jumpstart your metabolism.”

Sly taps his belly. “Then we’ll eat now.”

He journeys to the kitchen area, and just as Koujaku promised, there are different dishes cloaked in ceramic wrap on the stove awaiting him. Sly nukes everything, says a half-assed prayer over the meal, and devours each serving. It’s all very filling; Koujaku made just enough to satisfy the two of them.

Ren suggests to Sly that he rest for the next hour to let his food properly digest. He listens to that advice and drapes his body over the loveseat. The thing is, what in the world is he going to do for a whole hour on his ass? He’s still pretty exhausted. Napping seems to be an efficient way to pass the time. Part of him wishes that that damned Koujaku was there to be lazy with him…

…and he hates it. When did his dependency on Koujaku grow to such a cancerous level and when did he allow it? Why are there times when he yearns to see him? Or touch his hair? Or feel his suffocating, crimson gaze? Or feel the sweet weight of his lips on his face? Why? When did he become like this? He’s diametrically different than his past self. He’s got Koujaku’s kid feeding off of everything he takes in, and it’s not like getting pregnant by the man he used to heatedly abhor is on his checklist of things to do in life. Now it’s like his life revolves around him. He’s currently sprawled on the sofa, waiting the hairdresser’s return. Looking _forward_ to it.

When did he become this person? This needy thing?

In the midst of searching for at least some of the answers, Sly dizzies himself and drifts off into a light slumber. It’s short-lived: Ren’s paws are tapping away at his noggin.

“ _Oiiiii…_ ”

“Sly. Sei is at the bottom of the staircase.”

“Sei? Sei as in older brother Sei?”

“Yes. He will be at the doorstep shortly.”

“Which means I’ll have to get up. _Fucking great_.”

Sly shifts onto his angrily pulsing soles. He proceeds to waddle over to the door, and the minute he gets there, Sei knocks. He answers. Sei’s smile nearly blinds him.

“Good morning, Aoba~”

Sly rubs his eyes, “Guess again.”

Sei blinks out of his smile. He takes in his younger brother’s frame. He is intrigued by the deeper tone and brighter pigment in the rings of his twin’s eyes. And then, he has his revelation.

It’s his _birth_ twin.

Sei takes a single step forward, his outstretched arms yanking Sly in the warmest, greeting embrace he can muster. It feels awfully nostalgic to Sly. His entire being softens into the affectionate hug.

“It’s truly been forever,” murmurs Sei, with a crack of emotion, and for a moment – or maybe Sly is just hallucinating – he feels Sei’s lips graze his jaw.

“ _Yeeeeah_ ,” Sly yawns.

“ _Ah!_ I’m sorry if I disturbed your nap! You were sleeping, right?”

“If you wanna call it that. But it’s fine.”

“But I woke you…”

“It’s _fine_ , Sei. Come inside. It’s fucking cold.”

Sly moves aside to give Sei room to enter the domain, and the twins occupy a seat beside one another at the sofa. Sei hasn’t stopped grinning the second he set foot inside; he does not see a reason to. His “other” twin is awake, and it’s been a _very_ good minute since they’ve last spoken. He adores Sly’s company just as much as Aoba’s.

“I’m so glad that I actually get to speak with _you_ ,” says Sei. Ren punctually leaves his cushion to settle down in Sei’s lap.

Sly only nods. He’s not particularly the sentimental type, but there’s something lovely about being able to speak to converse with his angel of a twin in this way.

“I have really missed you,” Sei sincerely confesses.

“Ain’t that sweet. I don’t get that every day.”

“How have you been?”

“Um. Thesame? Maybe?”

That angelic smile expands. “Even so, that’s fantastic. I’m happy that you’re doing okay. I never thought that we would be together like this... Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m good.”

Sei leans in, “Are you sure!? Are you hungry? Have you eaten already? I don’t mind getting anything for you. Or would you like me to fix something?”

“Sei, chill. I literally just ate. I’m fine.”

“Alright… W-Well, please tell me if there’s anything you need. I don’t mind, really. Hm, but knowing you, you’re going to want to do everything on your own, I bet.”

Sei drops his onyx orbs to the very top of Sly’s roundness. A warmth pools in his heart. There is a baby – his little niece – curled up underneath that layer of clothing and skin. Sei is reminded by the reunion with his other twin that Aoba is not the only one pregnant here, because there is Sly, slouched beside him on the couch with a sleepy pout on his mouth. And… Sei thinks it suits him. His lips bear a grin, but that grin steadily crumbles as laughter fights against his lips. Smothering his chortling is a wasteful endeavor. Sly’s eyebrows dip at his brother’s abrupt laughter. He naturally suspects it has something to do with him.

“Oi. What’re you laughin’ at?”

“I-It’s just that I would never imagine _you_ pregnant.”

“S’not like I had much of a choice. Aoba didn’t know he could get pregnant, either, so surprise. Here she is.”

“How does it feel bearing a child?”

“Big. You feel fucking big. I’m always hungry. I always have to piss. My back always aches. My feet are swollen. I’m disoriented. I’m tired. I’m horny. I’m a blimp. You don’t want this, Sei, and you’re just like me, so always use condoms when you and Mizuki fuck.”

Sei flinches at Sly’s blatantly-worded warning. He hurriedly flings his eyes to the hardwood floor as pink runs amuck about the surface of his upper cheeks. A victorious smirk appears on Sly’s visage. Making Sei crack and blush is what he lives for. He’s always watched him from Aoba’s filter, and he’s always wondered what it would be like to get under that sweet, pale skin.

“You guys _are_ fuckin’, right?” Sly pushes just a wee bit harder. The point of his nose pierces Sei’s personal space. Sei suddenly feels dry allover. He self-consciously recoils into himself, petting Ren with more force than needed.

“U-Uh… mm.”

Sei’s pink reaction pleases him. He has an adorable older brother. Sly doesn’t back off, and Sei knows he won’t, until he gets him to spill.

“W—Mizuki and I are very careful .”

“So you _are_ fuckin’ him.”

“W-Well… I _am_ his boyfriend, so I-I think—”

“Is it good?”

“A-Ah!?”

“The sex. Is it good?”

“Er…”

“I know him; Mizuki’s a freak, and it takes a special type of person to keep up with him. You’ve been together for almost a year now, so you must be doin’ something right. He loves breaking pretty things. I bet he keeps you bent over doing all sorts of nasty shit.”

Sei is going to explode so Sly eases off.

“I’m not fooled by this innocent façade you put up, bro. I see through all that. Use protection is all I’m sayin’,” Sly finishes, patting Sei’s burning hand. Sei gently smiles through all of the stinging red. He is grateful for his younger brother’s advice. That much he _can_ say.

“I-I would like to have children, yes. One day. But, as of right now, my body cannot take the pressure and stress of bearing a child,” Sei’s genuine smile lifts at Sly’s bump, “but my niece will be here soon. So until I become a little stronger, I will be content with just looking after her as if she were my own.”

“…”

“Are you ready?”

“Hell no.”

The warm pad of smiley-faced Sei’s palm strokes Sly’s thigh, “You’ll be fine. Everything will go well; you shouldn’t waste time fretting. You and Koujaku will have a healthy daughter.”

Sly’s bones relax at his brother’s soft words. Originally, he does not realize that they are rigid to begin with. Sei might actually be an angel. That very angel scopes the surrounding space around them, visually scanning the home for another presence.

“I knew it was too quiet. Koujaku must be working?” Sei assumes.

“Yeah. He said he’ll be back around lunchtime.”

“I see… Do _you_ get along well with him?”

“With Koujaku?”

“Yes.”

Sly crosses his legs as much as he can.

“He’s not… terrible. I mean, it’s _Koujaku_. Aoba chose him, so obviously I had no choice but to tolerate him. He can be an annoying ass at times. And overbearing. And embarrassing. And cheesy.”

“Yet you love him still. Right?”

It’s like a thousand volts punctuated Sly and disrupted his heartbeat at that word.

“What?”

“ _Love_. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“I. I-I mean. Nnm _………………………h_.”

Sei’s ears only pick up faint murmurs. “Mm~?” It’s his turn to tease. Sly slopes further into the sofa cushions, slanting his eyebrows. He refuses to bring his pupils to Sei’s digging set. It’s an uncomfortable feeling when Sei pries and exposes your soul.

“…………ah.”

Sei narrows his eyes provocatively at his brother.

“ _Sly_.”

“I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t feel that way for him.”

“If you didn’t _love_ him,” Sei corrects.

“Sure.”

Sei giggles at his brother’s evasive answers. It’s just as he suspected: the L-word.

Sly cannot say it.

He physically cannot pass the word through his lips. Sly knows it, too. It eats his tongue each time he fixes it on his lips and attempts to birth it into the air. It hurts. Aoba does not have this problem, and it makes Sly understandably envious. He can tell Koujaku he loves him on demand. It fucking nearly kills Sly to merely think about voicing his true emotions to his lover. It’s something so simple, but he can’t do it. He feels that that’s pretty pathetic.

Sei rests his head on Sly’s shoulder, “It’s fine. You don’t have to force yourself. I’m certain you love him.”

“…But I can’t fucking say it,” Sly rumbles, voicing his brimming frustration. It’s effortless for Sei to pick up his brother’s disgruntlement. He brings his hand up to the underside of his stomach and sweetly pets it.

“You have never really had anyone to say that to, so it’s completely understandable. And that’s okay. One day, it’ll come easily to you. You won’t even have to think about it. As for now, Koujaku knows that you love him, and he surely loves you. I love you, and this baby loves you,” Sei pecks his cheek, “You are loved, Sly, and as long as you know that, you should never have to worry about a thing.”

Correction: Sei _is_ an angel.

“ _Ah!_ I almost forgot why I truly came!! I have these to give to you.”

Sei reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a clear bottle of pills. Prenatal vitamins. Since the moment Tae knew her grandson was pregnant she’s been producing her own prenatal supplements. She prepares a month’s supply and sees to it that he’s taking every last pill. Ren is her eyes and ears.

“Granny sent me to give you and Aoba your vitamins. She said you should be out of them in a few days.”

Sei hands them to Sly.

“ _Greeeat._ ”

“Make sure you both take them all. I want a healthy niece~”

Turns out Sei is also on his way to meet boyfriend Mizuki at Black Needle. Sly kindly reminds him of the blunt conversation they had before sending his flushed and flustered cherub of a twin on his way.

 

_2:23 P.M._

Ren notifies a catnapping Sly of Koujaku’s impending arrival. Sly shrugs himself awake and neatens himself on the couch. His eyes are tacked onto the door as he anticipates his lover’s arrival.

“I’m home~” Koujaku calls out.

Sly watches Koujaku slide into the house and shut the door. Their gazes lock immediately in midair; Koujaku discovers yellow twinkling back. He knows straightaway that the flavor of the day – morning, actually – will be a somewhat _sour_ blue raspberry. Within seconds he is hovering over the sitting, simpering Sly. Sly attractively forks his legs further apart to receive him. Koujaku notes the movement.

“ _Hey, you_ ,” Koujaku deeply welcomes, leaning down and readying his lips for an embrace. The perfect ends of his long bangs sweep the side of Sly’s jaw as their lips softly, quietly meet. But they don’t stop at one: many kisses are born, all spurred on by Sly and deliciously responded by Koujaku. When the wet tip of Koujaku’s tongue grazes his, an interrupting sharpness stabs Sly’s cheek just as he further parted his lips to take more of it. Out of his peripheral vision he spies Beni hauling ass down the hall with Ren scuttling after him.

“BENI YOU LITTLE FUCK.” Sly “hngs” as he tries very, very hard to get on his feet so that he can go after the damn bird, but he cannot seem to pass the first step of actually getting _on_ his feet due to the egg in his lap. It’s a sight to see, and Koujaku wants to laugh so fucking badly but he is far too close to Sly right now. He doesn’t wish to lose his eyes, so pacifying him is his best option.

“Alright, alright. Settle down,” Koujaku coos to his hotheaded love. He rests his right arm on the space above Sly’s shoulders, taking the vacant and very close seat to the left of him. He kisses Sly’s hair, and the latter shifts closer into Koujaku’s hold till his aching back rests upon his chest. The warmth stings nicely. Sly closes his eyes and hones in on the man’s unique, mystifying scent of natural styling products and fresh dew. Sly droops into his body, pouting.

“I’m gonna fry your goddamn bird. One day you’re gonna wake up and you’re not gonna find him.”

“Sly, that’s just how he shows his love.”

“Love my ass. Aoba may tolerate that shit but I don’t.”

Koujaku teases Sly’s locks with his lips; he adores the sensation. He needs to change the subject.

“How was breakfast?”

“I’ve had better.”

“You sure ate it all.”

“I’m pregnant, smartass.”

“You have a point,” Koujaku brings his left hand to the crown of Sly’s curved stomach, “Are you feeling well?”

“My back aches like fuck, and every time I step it feels like I’m walking on white fucking coals.”

“Feet or back?”

Sly’s left eyebrow jumps, “…What do you mean?”

“Which would you like me to tend to first?”

“Oh. Uh. I guess my back?”

Back it is. Koujaku has Sly turn and sit long ways across the couch for him, insistently assisting him when it was time to bring his legs up to the cushions. And Koujaku sets to work, seating himself tightly behind Sly, beginning with his shoulders.

Pinch, squeeze, knead, relax. And again: Pinch, squeeze, knead, relax. Sly senses his entire body dissolving to cream under this man’s heavenly instruments. Koujaku feels it, too, and it is a wonderful feeling to experience. This may very well be a simple back massage, but through this Koujaku is strengthening an solidifying his bond with Sly. There were times when Sly _would_ come out but wouldn’t submit to Koujaku for shit. Now look at him. He’s pudding, eagerly expecting every touch.

Koujaku blasts the tense knots out of his shoulder blades next. He utilizes the heels of his palms to rub tiny circles into them as many times as Sly requests. He’s relentless with it, determined to destroy any and all gridlocked tissue with his strokes.  He digs and drags his knuckles beside and along his boyfriend’s spine, and he must be doing a great job, because Sly releases something close to a breathy purr. Koujaku feels him shudder, too. It’s flattering. He thinks to make a cute comment on both his findings, but he fears Sly might become too self-conscious about them. So he moves on lastly to Sly’s lower back and unremittingly burrows his palms into his lumbar. That’s when Sly sings.

“ _Ahn_.”

A jolt of relief sprints up from Sly’s lower back once an involuntary moan splits itself from the base of his throat. Koujaku smirks accomplishedly, piling on more pressure.

“Good?” he whispers to Sly, the words ghosting moistly over the latter’s left ear.

“ _More_.”

“Mm.”

And Koujaku provides. He administers special care to his lower back, as it is the place where his lovers experience the most compounded discomfort. Sly’s little noises drizzle in and out in intervals. Koujaku experiments by stroking various areas to gauge which places make him cry out the loudest and sweetest. He learns petting anything near his spine gives him the desired results. Sly leans his upper back against his partner’s chest for support till the very end. It is a moment Koujaku relishes more than Sly thinks.

Koujaku finishes with three, telling pats to his lover’s backside, “There. Feel a little better?”

“Mmmmn,” Sly’s lethal slits of seduction swoop over his shoulder to his boyfriend, “you left a few knots; you’ll need more than your hands to get those out, I’m afraid.”

Koujaku drags his index finger under his lover’s throat. He drops a pair of kisses to his temple, “Patience. I still have your feet to do.”

Sly doesn’t have very much of that. If he didn’t have a pumpkin attached to his abdomen he would have jumped Koujaku minutes ago and have him mercilessly pinned to the couch. So he endures just a while longer. Koujaku maneuvers from behind Sly’s backside to his feet near the end of the sofa. He cranes Sly’s left foot up from the cushion and props it in his lap. He starts padding the area beneath Sly’s toes with his thumbs in an elliptical motion, applying the necessary pressure to relieve his boyfriend’s aches. He aims lower, working his thumbs into the middle sole, encouraging better circulation. Sly wriggles his toes. There’s something about watching Koujaku massage his feet that makes his heart flutter like some chick’s. Damn him.

“Sei came over,” Sly shares.

“Sei, huh. Was he just visiting?”

“The hag made s’more horse pills, so she sent him to give ‘em to me,” Sly thinks back on their conversation, “we talked some before he left.”

“That had to be nice. It’s been ages since you two’ve been together.”

“I told him not to get pregnant.”

Koujaku shakes with laughter. His thumbs press deeper into Sly’s pink sole. Sometimes it hurts, kneading the dead nerves back to life, but the hairdresser always numbs the pain with sweeter, apologetic strokes from his thumb pads.

“I just spoke with Mizuki, and that’s not happening any time soon. Trust me,” Koujaku lingers on his lover’s left foot a minute more and alternates to the right, “he’s nowhere near ready for something like this.”

“And you are?”

“Getting there. I’m more ready than he’d be, definitely. Speaking of Mizuki, nice top.”

Sly has to take a second to realize what the hell Koujaku means by that, but he is easily reminded as he spots the said man’s eyes gawking at his frilly blouse. He honestly forgot he was wearing it at this point. Thanks to Koujaku’s cheeky comment, his frustration is renewed. Sly noisily sucks his teeth and thrusts his right foot in the other man’s face.

“Thanks for reminding me. Why the fuckizit taking you so long to wash a few shirts?”

His heel strikes him dead center on the hairdresser’s brow, and he keeps it there until Koujaku actually manages to reclaim it.

“I wanted to see you wear the ones Mizuki bought.”

“Why!?”

“Because I knew they’d look cute on you two. Why else do you think I’ve been stalling on your laundry?”

Sly’s visage burns with rose, “ _You_. I’m glad you get off on it. I’d be kicking your ass right now if I didn’t have this melon in my lap.”

“Pipe down, you look adorable. But why are you wearing shorts?”

“Why’re you wearing a kimono?”

“Sly,” Koujaku’s ruby eyes begin to narrow, “It’s almost fifty degrees outside.”

“My point exactly.”

“But I’m not the one pregnant, Sly. What if you catch a cold? You should wear layers to keep yourself warm. Socks, too.”

Sly simply allows the man to get whatever else he feels needs to say out of his system, hoisting his crossed arms high up against his chest.

“Are you done lecturing me about my fashion choices, Koujaku?”

“I’m not ‘lecturing.’ I just don’t want you to get ill, babe. Wear some sweats, at least.”

“I’m gonna be in the house all day anydamnway so I really don’t see why it matters. And shut the hell up,” Sly tosses a sultry smile his way, “You love my legs. Stop pretending that you don’t like seein’ ‘em.”

Koujaku answers with one just as devious.

“I can’t deny that.”

Then Sly hits him with that _look_. His pointy canines tease the soft, wet flesh of his lower lip. There’s a fire brewing… He suggestively strokes the man’s bicep with the toes of his left foot, “How long is your break?”

Koujaku grins at the appendages, “An hour. So the usual.”

“Good.”

“Got something planned?”

“Yeah. For you to fuck me.”

“Is that so.”

“I’m not fuckin’ around,” and Sly drives home his point as he digs his toes into Koujaku’s muscle, nails chewing the skin, “You’re not leaving until you fuck me.”

“Relax, Sly. I’m gonna take care of every inch of you,” Koujaku sweetly promises, softly caressing and gripping Sly’s angry foot whilst carrying a very dark and amorous gaze to the other male’s eyes, “I always do, don’t I?”

Koujaku lifts Sly’s right foot to his lips. A kiss is left upon the hill of his ankle, signaling the end of his massage services. And he gives no warning for what’s next. They’re passionately connected by their mouths in a breath. Koujaku intensely hovers over Sly as gently as he can, the latter descending little by little until fully splayed on his back atop the sofa cushion. Their kiss is unbroken, tied at the tongue. Everything is heavy and beautifully rushed – as it always is with this pair – and Sly falls deeper and stronger into Koujaku’s rhythm. He succumbs to it, _arches_ into it, every open crevasse filling with Koujaku’s presence as he consumes him. Sly widens his legs to accommodate as much of him as needed, and Koujaku’s large hands ride up and down his naked thighs.

Oh. They’re gonna do it here? On the couch?

Fine by Sly.

But briskly, Sly winces in his spot. He experiences a flash of uneasiness, but instantly, a tiny smile appears. That awkward fluttering in his gut is back. He lifts his head a fraction to peer downward to his belly. He feels her little limbs prod stubbornly against the roof of his stomach. It’s always nice to feel her move about like this and in _this_ fashion; it’s vexingly soothing. He will never grow use to it.

“Something wrong?” Koujaku asks, having felt Sly jerk.

“Nah. She’s just awake.”

Koujaku grants Sly a kiss to his left cheek, “Is she?” Sly guides the man’s hand to the upper left quadrant of his stomach. Together, they feel the results of her poking about inside of him in shortly-spaced spurts.

“She’s antsy,” the beaming Koujaku says.

“It’s a little annoying. She probably hears your voice. She never moves for me… like… this…”

Sly freezes. The reason for Sly’s slowed statement is the reality that Koujaku’s lips just passed a lasting kiss onto his stomach. His cheeks come alive with the sweet hue of a summer peach. This guy is too much.

“You’re so cheesy that I might seriously die.”

“Aleena.”

Sly blinked twice.

“Eh?”

“ _Aleena_ ,” Koujaku repeats stronger, and with a bigger smirk, his fingers acting as a soft comb as it raked his scalp, “that’s the name I’ve picked for our baby.”

Sly is speechless. But more importantly, why does he suddenly feel like he shouldn’t be hearing this? Like this isn’t meant for his ears? Aoba can’t hear a damn thing since the slug is still sleeping within him. Sly is the conscious one, and here he is listening to Koujaku reveal the name he’s chosen for their unborn child.

“Uh. Okay.”

“I’ve been going over a few names in my head for days now, but that’s the only one that keeps haunting me. I haven’t brought it up to Aoba, yet… Is he awake?”

“No.” Sly doesn’t feel him stirring. He’s glad.

“So he doesn’t know… I guess that means you’re the first to hear it, then. Do you like it?”

“Uhhh. It’s… _nice…?_ ”

Koujaku squints at his lover…

“What’s with that tone?”

“It’s weird, you telling me something before Aoba knows.”

“But you are my lover, too, so it shouldn’t be weird. You both are equal, aren’t you?”

“I guess so.”

Koujaku posts a three kisses to his lips. Sly feebly returns the final one.

“And why wouldn’t I tell you? It’s our baby. You have a say in what the name should be.”

“I guess so,” Sly replies again. Koujaku figures it’s going to be as close to a “yes” as he’s going to get, so he settles for that. He brings their temples together and whispers those three, sacred words. The three syllables permeate his bones; a numbing, pulsing sensation has him burning in the most alien of ways. It’s almost nauseating. It makes him sick. It’s like his body – his being – rejects receiving such foreign words. It’s his defense mechanism, but Koujaku thrusts the words into him anyhow.

So that Sly remembers. So that Sly knows.

He is loved.

“Yeah,” is the only response Sly’s soul will allow. Close enough.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i promise this is all [i](http://prettysoldierbee.tumblr.com/) will stop.


End file.
